So even when I opened my eyes just in time to see the Austin as we whizzed past, once I’d mustered the strength to convey politely to Dicky that I needed him to stop (Dickyyyyyyyyyy! Bloody stopppppppppp!), and we’d reversed back along the verge to stop in front of a very startled Leonard, I’m a little bit ashamed to say that I decided I was going make my moment last. Leaving Dicky and Leonard to work it out for themselves, I simply closed my eyes and let the kerfuffle wash over me. Like all the waves that had ever rolled onto the beach in Penzance while I wasn’t looking had turned around to roll back home. Come on in, I’ve got you, love.

The pain in my stomach was so bad I was seeing stars in the outer constellations, but for the rest of the journey to the hospital, with my head on a very comfy old lap and the rise and fall of Dicky’s voice as he filled Leonard in, for the first time in my adult life I did what Thelma and Louise never could. And while there’s not really a chance in hell I would have got around to surrendering any sooner, if I had, it probably wouldn’t have taken me and my insides quite so long to get right back to where we all started.

Within five minutes of arriving at Wishaw Hospital I realized surrender was actually more of a requirement than a choice. But as it seemed to be working quite well for me, anyhow, I allowed myself to drift off to check out the Big Dipper in a compliant haze of pain medication, X-rays, ultrasounds and MRIs.

At one stage I opened my eyes to see an earnest-looking doctor leaning over me so closely I could smell his cheese-and-pickle-sandwich breath. I saw his mouth moving and I heard inflections at the end of a series of noises so I knew he was asking me questions but, in full surrender mode, I just smiled and closed my eyes again.

After several laps of the hospital, up and down in lifts, along corridors, in and out of windowless rooms, lifted off and put back on the trolley bed like an unwanted dessert, I arrived at the end of the road. I don’t mean the real end, because I’m pretty sure Leonard wouldn’t be the first choice to man the Pearly Gates, bearing in mind the Wheeler Center secure unit and all that, but it looked like the end of my hospital Grand Prix at least. So when I saw the worried look on Leonard’s face as he hovered behind the two nurses fussing around my drug drip I grudgingly decided that, while surrender had been a lovely place to visit and I’d definitely be back, perhaps the holiday was over.

“Well...the decor’s not great, but it’s an improvement on Toad Hall, eh?”

My voice sounded weak and croaky and the attempt at humor was lame even by my standards, but Leonard grabbed my hand and held it against his cheek with a chuckle.